Who Am I Supposed To Be Again?

Out Of All The Neighborhoods In Manhattan, Soho In Particular Had The Charged Atmosphere Of A Movie Set, Populated With Passersby Who Looked Like Extras From Central Casting, So Perfectly Did They Fit Into This Environment. There Was The Feeling Of Everything Being Not Quite Real, Or Too Perfectly Cliched To Actually Be True, And It Began To Rain In A Fine, Misty Drizzle From A Black Patent Leather Sky.

At First, Being With Sebastian Was Like Being In The Middle Of The Best Dream I'd Ever Had - But Now It Mostly Feels Exhausting. I'm Up One Minute And Down The Next; Questioning What I Say And Do. Even Questioning My Sanity.

A Glittering Disco Ball Spins From The Ceiling, But The Music Is Something I've Never Heard, Discordant And Haunting And Insistent, The Kind Of Music That Demands You Dance.

I Started Writing About New York As Soon As I Arrived. I Was 19. I Used To Write Short Stories And Send Them Out.

Whoever We Are Here, We Might Be Princesses Somewhere Else. Or Writers. Or Scientists. Or Presidents. Or Whatever The Hell We Want To Be That Everyone Else Says We Can't.